


Sherlock's Deal

by captain_indigo



Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Crossroads, Crossroads Deals & Demons, Ficlet, Gen, Hellhounds, Superlock AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-07
Updated: 2013-08-07
Packaged: 2017-12-22 17:09:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captain_indigo/pseuds/captain_indigo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock Holmes made a deal with a crossroads demon, and his bill is finally coming due...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock's Deal

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post on tumblr:  
> http://gundamdick.tumblr.com/post/57243603891/i-was-so-alone-and-i-o-u-so-much  
> Completely unbeta'd, also it's 6 AM.

It was dark, and it didn't matter. It’s not like you could see them coming anyway. As much as Sherlock’s face ever showed fear, it did then, for a moment, as they waited, listened to the deep, horrible growls stalking closer. Oh God, John, he was never going to see-

"They’re here." and then his face was carefully blank again.

"Fuck, Sherlock, can’t we-"

"Dean, as much as I appreciate your offer, I do not believe any action on your part would save me. At least respect logic enough to refrain from interfering without practical purpose."

"Damn it. What in the hell was the deal for, Sherlock?"

At first, the only reply was silence, and the detective’s gaze slid over the surrounding trees, unseeing, as he remembered… No one could be that clever? For once, he had been telling the truth. Sure, he’d been born with natural ability, but surely what John so admired was mostly the deal’s work, the almost supernatural leaps of married logic and intuition that he so vehemently denied. No one could really be that clever. No one. Not even Sherlock Holmes. And the awful truth was, he had been glad. Looking down at that face, those eyes, not lit up for once, he had been glad of the excuse. Glad to “die" saving the few people he cared for, even loved, so that when his bill finally came due there were no goodbyes left to say. It was better this way. Neater. More efficient, surely. He repeated it over and over in his head, as they came closer, smashing through underbrush. He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince.

"Fine, stubborn asshole. Don’t tell me."

Sherlock looked back at Dean. Pinched face, overly casual tone, hiding pain and bitterness, dealing with it in his own way.

"Dean. Go. Thank you for attempting to help me, but it seems I have run out of time."

Dean pressed his lips together, shrugging roughly as he forced himself to turn away.

"And the deal…" he clenched one hand tighter into the rough fabric of the deerstalker. The hounds were in the clearing, surely, the leaves rustling just before his feet. “Whatever it was for, it doesn't matter now."


End file.
